


Twice The Holiday Cheer

by ozhawk



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Chanukah, Christmas, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Issues, Friends to Lovers, Hanukkah, Sharing a Bed, When worlds collide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-08 18:07:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8855665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozhawk/pseuds/ozhawk
Summary: What’s a girl to do when the impending clash of Hanukkah and Christmas cause the two separated halves of her family to start bickering about where she spends the holidays? Why, invent a fake Jewish boyfriend as an impeccable excuse, of course.

  Except her Christian mother and Jewish father just spoke to each other for the first time in a decade, and now she’s well and truly screwed.
A Darcyland Secret Santa 2016 gift fic for Dresupi.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dresupi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/gifts).



“Save me from warring families,” Darcy dropped her phone, resisting the urge to throw it out the window, and buried her face in her hands.

“I am good at saving people, what do you need?” an accented voice drawled just above her ear, and she flailed with a bit of a shriek.

“Warn a girl, Maximoff!”

“Sorry,” he didn’t look remotely repentant as he slouched down onto the couch beside her, scooping her phone off the table to look at it. “Ah, the luxuries of having two parents to fight over you. You don’t know how lucky you are.”

It was quite true, but Darcy wasn’t about to let go of her pout so easily. “Being an orphan would be preferable some days.”

Pietro’s eyebrows were rising as he scrolled through the increasingly guilt-trippy texts from her mother. “Wow. Actually… you could have a point.”

“She’s not normally this bad,” Darcy admitted, reaching to take her phone back, “but Hanukkah is very inconveniently timed this year.”

Pietro blinked. “You’re Jewish? I did not know that.”

“Half Jewish. My mother is a gentile, my dad’s Jewish. Normally everything is fine, I spend Christmas with her and Hanukkah with Dad and my stepmom. Extra days off work and everything is cool.” Darcy grinned, the smile souring as her phone beeped with another incoming text message. “Except with the first day of Hanukkah this year being Christmas Eve, I am, to put it politely, screwed.”

“Your father isn’t being understanding either?”

“He’s not so bad, it’s my stepmom. And to be honest, she has a point. Hanukkah is pretty much the only time I ever spend with them. Oh, shut _up_ ,” Darcy told her phone as it beeped yet again.

“So there is a Darcy tug-of-war,” Pietro smirked. “I am finding this quite funny.”

“I can tell, you asshole,” she punched him in the arm, wincing as she hurt her knuckles. “Quit laughing at me. I didn’t even tell you the worst part yet.”

“What?”

“I made the tactical error of assuming my mom would back off if I gave her a good reason I had to do Hanukkah with Dad and Rebecca. I really picked the wrong reason, though.” Darcy’s phone chirped again and she groaned and shoved it down behind the couch cushions. “I’m blaming it on those cocktails Nat made last night. They made my brain explode.”

“I do not understand,” Pietro cocked his head, blue eyes sparking quizzically. “What excuse did you use?”

“I told her I had a boyfriend and that he’s Jewish so doesn’t celebrate Christmas. So we would do Hanukkah instead. I mean, it’s not like my mom is on her own,” Darcy justified, “I have three not-at-all-Jewish younger half-sisters who will do Christmas celebrations so hard Mom won’t even notice I’m not there.”

Pietro just looked at her.

“Yeah, except the word _boyfriend_ set something off in her brain.” Darcy groaned and dropped her face into her hands. “I’m now getting the ‘why does your father get to meet him but not me? Are you ASHAMED of me?’ guilt trip. Plus, she called my dad. She NEVER calls my dad. But now my _dad_ is expecting me to bring along a nice Jewish boyfriend to meet him and Rebecca!”

Pietro’s expression grew more confused. “So?”

“I don’t _have_ a boyfriend, Pietro, Jewish or otherwise! Ugh, this is a _disaster_. I’m gonna have to tell Dad that I got dumped and act totally heartbroken in order to fend off questions, and then my mother will be even _more_ impossible.” She looked utterly woebegone. “This is gonna be the worst Hanukkah and Christmas since that time I was eleven.”

“That time you were eleven...?”

“And I came down with appendicitis on Christmas Eve.”

“Ouch,” Pietro winced, before a thoughtful expression crossed his face. “What if you did have a boyfriend?”

“... you expect me to find a Jewish boyfriend who would be willing to be introduced to both sides of my nutbag family, in less than ten days.” Darcy looked at him as though he’d lost his mind. “Look, I’m cute, but I’m not _that_ cute.”

Pietro smirked at her. “You underestimate yourself. And that wasn’t the plan, anyway.”

“Plan?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I could pretend to be your boyfriend. I’m Jewish, you know.”

She did know that, of course she did. She still gaped at him incredulously. “But… aren’t you and Wanda planning to spend the holidays together?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Yes, but I do not like being a third wheel. She and Sam are very much in each other’s pockets right now.”

That was also something of which Darcy was well aware. Every time she turned a corner in the facility, she seemed to run across Wanda and Sam playing tonsil hockey. She could only imagine how uncomfortable that would be for Wanda’s twin. Even so…

“You can’t seriously want to spend the holidays with _two_ families of complete strangers. All of whom will spend a lot of time interrogating you as to your ‘intentions’ towards me.”

Pietro sniggered at that. “I have fended off angry fathers and matchmaking mothers before, Darcy. I think I can manage. And yes… I do think I want to celebrate with your families. Both of them. It is too long since Wanda and I had anyone but each other to light the menorah with.”

There was just enough pathos in his words that Darcy had a swallow a lump in her throat. “You’d really do this for me?” she asked.

“Sure.” Pietro shrugged, flashed her his patented cheeky smirk. “Why not? I’ve heard you mention a few times that you learned to cook from your mother. At least I know I’m guaranteed good food.”

That made her chuckle. “You are, definitely. My sisters like to cook as well. And so does my stepmother. She makes the most incredible sweet potato _latkes_ but she’s really secretive about exactly what she puts in them. Maybe you could use your superspeed to spy on her and figure it out, and then I could make them too…”

“That’s a deal,” Pietro said, and offered his hand to shake. Darcy took it, slightly startled by the heat of his fingers wrapping around hers. “When do we leave? Where are we going, incidentally?”

“Not far. Mom lives in Poughkeepsie and Dad lives in Danbury, Connecticut. Less than an hour’s drive between them, if it doesn’t snow. Which is good because Mom and Dad have negotiated that I will be at Dad’s by four every afternoon and back at Mom’s by nine the following morning, from Christmas Eve to New Year. Or throughout Hanukkah, if you want to put it that way.”

“Maybe I shall run it sometimes, once I know the route,” Pietro mused.

“That’s entirely up to you, Speedy. If we’re taking the car, though, I’m driving. I’ve seen you drive and I’d prefer not to become a statistic this holiday season.” Darcy smiled to take the sting from her words; Pietro didn’t look offended, though, merely laughed.

“Whatever you like. Now, you had better fill me in. What’s my name, or did you not tell your parents one?”

“Fortunately, I didn’t,” Darcy thanked her lucky stars now that she’d blanked, panicked, and evaded the question. “So you can be you. Which actually neatly explains why I ducked every question about you. With you being an Avenger and all. I can say that I was sure they just wouldn’t believe me.”

“Why would they not believe you?” Pietro looked genuinely puzzled.

“Well, me, dating an Avenger… it’s kind of unlikely.”

“Why? They know you work here, don’t they?”

She looked at him, at his laughing blue eyes, his shock of white hair and his stupidly handsome face.

“Never mind,” Darcy said finally. “I told them we’d been dating about six weeks but we’d known each other a while. Which fits.”

“Yes, it does. Presumably I finally realized what had been under my nose all along, came to my senses and asked you out?”

“I didn’t get that specific, so if that’s the way you want to play it, that’s fine,” Darcy had to smile.

“And of course you could not possibly resist.”

“Wipe that smirk off your face,” she reached over and poked him in the ribs. “Dad definitely won’t appreciate you being smug and full of yourself. He’ll think you should be thanking your lucky stars that I deigned to look at you.”

“I shall act suitably besotted,” Pietro clasped his hands dramatically over his heart, “and spend the whole time following you around the room with puppylike devotion.”

“You know, I would actually pay good money to see my Dad’s face if you did,” Darcy had to put a hand to her mouth to suppress the giggles. Pietro laughed right along with her, until she stopped and gave him a more serious look. “Which brings me to another point. What’s this going to cost me, Maximoff?”

“Cost you?”

“This is a pretty spectacular favor you’re doing me. I’m gonna owe you, big-time, excellent familial cooking aside. What do you want?”

He cocked his head, smiling slightly. “I hadn’t thought of it, to be honest. Well. Maybe I shall come up with something over the holidays.”

“Ugh, I’ll _owe_ you.” Darcy made a face, but couldn’t help the smile that broke out on her face. “Thank you anyway, Pietro. You’re really helping me out here.”

He smiled, and for once said nothing as she stood up and left the room. His smile turned a little thoughtful as he watched her go.


	2. Chapter 2

Pietro made sure to knock on Wanda’s door loudly and wait at least ten seconds - an eternity, to him - before opening it. She was at least dressed, though her hair was severely mussed, as she stood up to smile at him. Pietro averted his eyes from Sam, reclining shirtless on Wanda’s bed.

“I’m going now,” Pietro said, “just stopped in to say goodbye.”

Wanda pulled him into a tight hug. “Have a good time, dear one.” The look she cast him as she pulled back was very knowing. “And don’t wait too long to make your move.”

“What move?” Sam asked interestedly. “Move on who? Are you hot for Lewis, Piet?”

“Have a wonderful Hanukkah and Christmas, there are presents for you both under the tree,” Pietro gabbled, kissed Wanda’s cheek and bolted.

“I feel like he evaded that question,” Sam said laughingly. “ _Is_ he sweet on Darcy, Wanda?”

“Sam,” she pulled off the blouse she’d yanked hastily on at the sound of her brother’s knock, “I love you very much, but the Twin Code absolutely forbids me from blabbing my brother’s secrets to you.”

Quite satisfactorily distracted as she scrambled back onto the bed beside him, Sam opened his arms to her and forgot entirely about anyone’s love life apart from his own.

Just about to yell impatiently for Pietro, Darcy shut her mouth as the car door clunked beside her and she turned her head to see him grinning back at her.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

“Ass,” Darcy said, but she was smiling as she started the engine.

“Only _nice_ pet names, please,” Pietro said laughingly. “Or your mother will be telling you that you don’t treat me right.”

“Ugh, don’t I know it. Alright, what should I call you?”

“Darling? Loverboy? Sex god? I’m good with all of them.”

“How about just Piet?” Darcy managed to get out through hysterical giggles.

“If you must.” He rolled his eyes with an affected sigh. “Babydoll.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“Sugar lips?”

“Stop it,” she took one hand off the wheel and batted at his arm. “Just don’t ever call me Dar or Darce. Everyone in my family knows I hate those and wouldn’t put up with a guy who couldn’t figure it out.”

“I should call you some sort of pet name, or your parents will think I am not fond enough of you. How about _princeza_? It means _princess_.”

“That… is really quite adorable. Especially in that accent. Prepare for my mom and sisters to melt.” He would probably melt them with his looks and the accent alone, she privately conceded. Her father might be a bit of a tougher sell, though.

Early on Christmas Eve morning, the traffic was already a nightmare. Darcy had to grit her teeth more than once before they finally made it to Poughkeepsie and she navigated through town to her mother’s place. Pietro asked her questions to pass the time “If we’re supposed to have been dating a couple months, I should know _something_ about your family” and she filled him in; on her three younger half-sisters (aged thirteen, fifteen and seventeen), her stepfather who’d died two years before but had been a wonderful second father to Darcy, never treating her any differently to his natural daughters. On her father who had only been a casually observant Jew until he met and married her more devout stepmother.

Pietro took it all in, listening carefully. As Darcy finally halted the car in the driveway of her mother’s house, he said;

“Darcy, you need to relax. Everything will be fine.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re just the fake boyfriend,” Darcy griped. “If we get busted, you’ll just get kicked out of the house. You can even just run home. Me, I’ll have to live with the parental disappointment for ever.”

“Sshh,” he reached out a long-fingered hand, touched her chin gently. “Anyway. Have you considered that you should not jump with surprise every time I touch you?”

She blushed.

“Or that your mother, at least, will be glad to see displays of affection between us?”

Wide-eyed, Darcy stared at him. Pietro smirked and leaned in towards her. His lips were warm and very soft as they slanted down on hers, his fingers sliding into her hair to hold her still for him.

Darcy was in great danger of getting lost in the kiss when a sudden banging on the window made her startle and jerk back. Pietro laughed, and she looked around to see the grinning faces of her sisters looking in at her, all giving her thumbs-up gestures, their breath fogging up the window.

“I hate you all,” she said, loudly enough for them to hear her through the glass, just before Lizzie dragged the door open and swooped in to hug her.

Pietro got out the other side of the car, still chuckling to himself. “Sorry, Darcy,” he said, his tone not at all apologetic, “didn’t mean to give your family a show like that.”

“He’s _hot_ ,” Lizzie squeaked in Darcy’s ear, barely letting up on the hug enough to let her out of the car. “Wait. Oh my _God.”_

Pietro had pulled off the beanie he was wearing - one Darcy had knitted and given to him a few days earlier, saying “I knit hats for everyone. It’d look weird if you didn’t have one” and his silver-white curls tumbled loose, promptly flopping in his eyes.

“Is that who I think it is?” Charlotte whispered, awed.

“Darcy’s dating an _Avenger_!” Jane shrieked and took off for the house, obviously to alert their mother.

“... And this is why I didn’t want to tell you about him,” Darcy cemented her story. “For various reasons, it’s not something we want public, so you guys can’t tell anyone, okay?”

From the corner of her eye she saw Pietro vanish from sight, knew he was up to something. The split second of warning was just enough that she didn’t leap in the air with a scream of shock when a strong arm curled around her from behind and he drawled in her ear “I won’t risk my _princeza’s_ safety.”

Charlotte went red with excitement. Lizzie let out a high-pitched squealing noise between her fingers. “It’s so _romantic_!”

“Let Darcy bring her young man inside, girls,” a laughing voice called from the house, and Pietro looked up from Darcy’s sweet-scented neck - where he’d been feeling extremely distracted - to see a smiling woman with Darcy’s eyes beckoning them into the house.

“Hello, dear, I’m Georgiana,” she introduced herself, “and Jane already told me who _you_ are. Should I call you Quicksilver?”

“Just Pietro, please.” He didn’t take his arm from around Darcy’s waist, but he did take Georgiana’s offered hand and kiss it gallantly, European style. She blushed a little and patted at her hair.

“Well. Gosh. It’s lovely to have you here, Pietro. I think you encountered my younger daughters but didn’t find out which was which…”

“Ah, but it was easy to figure out, Darcy has told me so much about you all,” Pietro fibbed smoothly. All he really had to do was match names to ages; Lizzie was seventeen, Jane fifteen and Charlotte thirteen. He soon had them all eating out of his hand, though, both Jane and Charlotte blushing and Lizzie giggling, all casting him shyly admiring glances, nudging Darcy enviously.

Georgiana soon had them all settled in the kitchen, where wonderful scents were already emanating from the stove. Pietro tried not to drool. Darcy caught his expression and chuckled.

“Mom is gonna love you, Piet. His metabolism is crazy fast, Mom, he likes to eat _a lot_. I’ve told him what a good cook you are.”

Georgiana looked delighted. “Well. You certainly won’t go hungry in my house, I promise you. Charlotte, get out those iced gingerbread cookies we made yesterday.”

Sitting beside Pietro, Darcy could feel the heat of the arm he’d slung casually around her shoulders. Her lips were still tingling from that incredible kiss in the car - who’d have thought that he could kiss like _that_? It made every other kiss she’d ever had pale in comparison. She hadn’t ever really even considered Pietro in a romantic light before this, but well, that kiss had changed her whole outlook.

Which was a dumb, rookie move. She knew what a terrible flirt he was. Why the hell was she falling for it?

Still, when he took his arm from around her as they stood up to move into the TV room, she found herself missing his touch.

“Time for Christmas movies!” Charlotte dived for the TV remote. “What’s first?”

“Muppet Christmas Carol!” shouts came from all around.

“I have not seen that one,” Pietro said, “Come sit with me, Darcy,” and before she could even blink, he’d dragged her into his lap, sitting down in a squashy armchair.

“Using your superspeed to do that was totally cheating,” she whispered very quietly in his ear, “but it’s going to serve you right when my heavy ass crushes your legs to sleep.”

He chuckled and nuzzled against her neck. “I am not worried about that.”

“And you might be going overboard with this display of affection thing.”

“Your mother does not think so.”

Darcy’s mother was indeed beaming approvingly at her from across the room. Darcy groaned internally. She was going to have to convince Pietro to tone it down, but she probably wouldn’t even get a chance to be safely alone with him until they were in the car again on the way to her dad’s that afternoon.

For now, she would just have to snuggle into his warm, muscular body, breathe in his disturbingly delicious scent, and pretend that Pietro Maximoff really was her boyfriend.

Oh, the hardship.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Pietro move on to her father's house.

“You have _got_ to tone it down,” was almost the first thing Darcy said to Pietro once they’d pulled back out onto the road.

“Why?” he asked, sounding aggravatingly amused. “Your mother approves of me; I heard her tell you to ‘hang onto that one’.”

“Which is why you have to tone it down!” Darcy almost yelled, annoyed with him for being so wilfully dense. “Because unless you want to carry on being my fake boyfriend for the rest of your life, sooner or later I am going to have to ‘break up’ with you, and the more my mother approves of you now, the bigger and longer the guilt trip I will suffer through for ‘fucking it up’ once that day comes!”

“Ah.”

Finally, he sounded like he got it. Darcy carried on. “You can’t behave like that in front of my father anyway. He’ll be suggesting that you go down to the basement and look at his shotgun.”

“Does he even own a shotgun?”

“No, that was a metaphor, he doesn’t even have a basement… Pietro, just please, tone it down. Don’t be _quite_ so affectionate? I do appreciate what you’re trying to do, really, but… you’re overdoing it.”

“I will try,” he said after a moment. “You could always tell your mother that you dumped me because I was the one to fuck it up, though.”

“She wouldn’t believe me.” Darcy’s fingers tightened on the wheel and she looked straight ahead, her lips pinched. “Mom and Dad were never even married,” she said finally, “I was an accident resulting from a brief fling. Everyone on both sides of the family were horrified; Dad’s parents wanted him to marry a nice Jewish girl, and Mom… well, she was only eighteen anyway.”

Pietro said nothing, just watched Darcy’s face as she talked.

“Mom insisted on keeping me, and Dad offered to marry her, but she said no. Said it was better that it was only one life ruined. And I did wreck her life; she was going to go to college. Instead she was a teenage mom. Dad was great, always paid more than his share, insisted on being part of my life… I lived with him and Rebecca for a while in my teens when Mom and I weren’t getting along. But I’ve spend my whole life knowing that I was an unwanted mistake, and any time I look like I’m getting involved with a guy, Mom’s always in my ear telling me not to do anything stupid, not to stuff it up by getting pregnant or anything…”

Darcy was talking very fast. Gently, Pietro reached out and touched her hand. “Darcy, it’s okay. We’ll play it your way. Whatever you need to do. Your mom does love you, it’s very obvious, she just wants you not to repeat her mistakes. Not that I think you’re a mistake. You’re a miracle.”

She smiled at that, glanced over at him. “You’re the miracle, not me, Speedy!”

He smiled back at her before reaching for the radio. She caught his hand move from the corner of her eye and smacked at it. “Oh, no you don’t. Driver picks the tunes.”

“But you said you wouldn’t let me drive!”

“That’s right.” She snickered at his pout. “Your taste in music is terrible, anyway.”

“It is not.”

“‘Tis so.”

The music changed and Darcy squawked with outrage. “Don’t you dare use superspeed to cheat! You’re _such_ an asshole. I’d never date you anyway!”

The music abruptly changed back. Pietro said nothing else, just stared out the window the rest of the way to her father’s house.

~~~~~~~

Darcy looked like her father, Pietro realized as they got out of the car and Jacob Machen came out of the house to greet them. Dark-haired and sturdily built, glasses magnifying his kindly smiling eyes, Jacob was barely taller than his daughter, which became apparent when they shared a warm hug.

“And you must be Pietro,” Jacob turned to offer his hand. “Welcome to my home.”

“Thank you for inviting me, sir,” Pietro said respectfully in return, shaking the offered hand. “I’m deeply honored by your invitation to spend Chanukah with your family.”

“Well, technically it’s Darcy who invited you, but she knows I would never be displeased about her bringing home a Jewish boy,” Jacob smiled at him, turning to lead the way into the house. “Rebecca and I had despaired that she would ever find one.”

“I’m only twenty-six,” Pietro heard Darcy’s rebellious mutter, though her father probably didn’t.

“I’m sure she was just waiting to be sure she had the right one before she dared to introduce him, sir,” he said as diplomatically as he could manage. “She warned me to be on my best behaviour else you’d be wanting to introduce me to your shotgun.”

“I don’t have a… oh, I see.” Jacob looked amused, cast a fond glance at Darcy. “Well. I trust Darcy’s judgement.”

A portly golden retriever wheezed up to them then, letting out a bark of excitement on seeing Darcy, who promptly dropped to her knees and threw her arms around the dog’s neck.

“Elspeth! I see Dad has totally failed at keeping you to your diet and exercise program.”

“She doesn’t like going for walks in the cold,” Jacob defended, “and she does like her treats.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Darcy chuckled at her father, who laughed back at her sheepishly.

“And also a third person,” Pietro teased gently. Darcy fisted him gently in the ribs.

“The perfect boyfriend isn’t supposed to point out my bad habits, Piet!”

“Just noting the family traits,” he pointed out, putting on an innocent expression and leaning down to pet the dog’s silky ears. “All ones I adore about you, of course.”

“He’s smooth, I’ll give him that,” Jacob told Darcy. “Rebecca will be back any minute, she just ran down to the store. Come on into the kitchen. Although I daresay your mother didn’t exactly let you starve.”

Rebecca arrived back just as Darcy was pouring the coffee; a tall, thin woman, she didn’t have Georgiana’s warmth but was still obviously very fond of Darcy and welcoming to Pietro.

“Now I’ve put you both in the downstairs guest room,” she said confidingly to Darcy when Jacob was out of the room for a moment, “you’re a grown woman now, and I’ve no need to be woken up by feet creaking on the stairs in the middle of the night.”

Darcy’s eyes widened, and she sneaked a look at Pietro. He guessed immediately that something had thrown her off her stride, covered for her.

“That sounds lovely, Rebecca,” he said politely, “in fact, I think we should go and get our bags from the car, shouldn’t we, Darcy? Bring them inside before it goes dark and we have to get ready to light the candle.”

It was cold outside; scenting the air, Pietro was pretty sure that the snow was going to start falling again soon. Spotting Rebecca watching them from the kitchen window, he deliberately put his arm around Darcy and hugged her close, as though to help keep her warm.

“We’ve got an audience,” he said quietly. “Now what was it she said that’s got you looking so panicky?”

“She’s put us both in the downstairs bedroom,” Darcy hissed, “they’re expecting us to share a bed!”

“It’s not an unreasonable assumption,” he responded, giving her a curious look.

Darcy spluttered. “Rebecca is _really_ strict. If I ever brought a boyfriend home in high school, we had to stay in the lounge with her or Dad there, like a chaperone!”

“You said it yourself, Darcy. You’re twenty-six, and this isn’t high school any more. It’s fine. I’m not gonna jump you in the middle of the night. Show me where your old room is and I can sleep there; I’ll run up there so quick the stairs won’t even creak.”

She was acting like some blushing Victorian maiden, Darcy realized, as Pietro opened the trunk and lifted their bags out easily. She reddened.

“I’m not gonna jump you either, don’t be silly!”

“Yeah, you made it quite clear that I’m not the sort of guy you’d want to be involved with.”

She blinked at his retreating back as he took the bags into the house. “When did I say that?” she asked, but she was talking only to the first flakes of softly falling snow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pietro makes his move.

The guest room Rebecca directed him to was actually very comfortable, Pietro noted, with its own ensuite bath and a comfortable-looking queen bed. He thanked her politely, setting the bags down beside the bed. He hadn’t brought much, but Darcy apparently needed a giant-sized and very heavy suitcase for the week’s stay. With the amount of layers she usually wore, she’d need a few things, though, he conceded. With his enhanced metabolism, he never even felt the cold. Heat bothered him more.

A small noise made him glance around to see Darcy standing in the doorway, chewing on her lip uncertainly.

“Do you want to unpack?” he checked.

“I guess.”

Neither of them seemed to have anything to say to each other at that moment, which seemed odd to Pietro. He and Darcy never had any trouble finding things to talk about normally. Half the time they were gently sniping at each other though, he thought, which would hardly do where Jacob and Rebecca could hear them.

“Do you want to take the top drawer?” Darcy gestured at the clothes chest. “Since you’re tall, and I can barely see into that one.”

“All my stuff should fit into the one anyway, and you can have the rest. Why _do_ women need so many clothes for just a few days? Wanda is just as bad.” Seeing her struggle to lift her case onto the bed, Pietro zoomed around to heft it for her, whizzed the zipper open while he was at it.

“Because men notice if we wear the same outfit all the time,” Darcy looked up at him, standing right beside her, so close she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. Suddenly, her mind treated her to a vivid replay of the kiss in the car that morning, the way Pietro’s mouth had felt as it moved over hers, the crispness of his curls as she sank her fingers into his hair.

“Yes,” Pietro said quietly. “I know I always notice what _you_ wear.” His gaze fell to her lips. He drew in his breath, and Darcy found herself unconsciously swaying a little closer to him.

“Darcy!” her father’s voice called, “it’s sunset!”

Suddenly Pietro was standing on the other side of the room, not looking at her. Off-balance even though they hadn’t been touching, Darcy had to put a hand out, brace herself against the wall.

“Coming, Dad!” she called back, trying her best to keep her voice steady.

Lighting the first candle on the menorah went off without a hitch; Pietro turned out to have an absolutely beautiful singing voice, making Darcy turn to look at him in surprise. He smirked back at her and put his arm around her waist. She was about to pull away, but saw from the corner of her eye her father’s approving smile.

 _Just stand still, Darcy,_ she told herself. _Smile and sing, and try not to enjoy the way he feels too much._

Pietro endeared himself to Rebecca by eating almost his weight in sweet potato latkes, and praising her cooking to the skies. Jacob and Rebecca were both beaming on Darcy happily by the end of the evening.

“Let’s take Elspeth out for her last walk,” Darcy said to Pietro as Rebecca announced she was going to turn in for the night.

“It’s chilly out there,” Jacob said, “wrap up warm, and don’t be long.”

“We won’t,” Darcy kissed his cheek fondly, and he gave her a warm embrace before nodding at Pietro with a smile and turning to follow Rebecca up the stairs.

“I’ll take her, you stay inside,” Pietro reached for the leash as Darcy coaxed the old dog up. “Your father’s right, it’s freezing out there.”

“I need the fresh air,” she insisted stubbornly, and he sighed and zoomed off to grab her coat and a scarf from the coat rack by the back door.

“Come on then. I guess I’ll just have to warm you up when we get back.”

“It’s not that cold,” Darcy scoffed, but she gasped as they went outside and the cold air hit her. “Okay… maybe it is that cold. Wow.” It was beautiful out, though, the sky bright with stars, their breath misting thickly in the air in front of them.

Elspeth made grumbly noises, rooting her way under a bush in the back garden. Darcy clung to the leash, realizing that she should probably have put gloves on. Her fingers were already turning numb.

“Go in,” Pietro’s warm hand closed over hers. He wasn’t even pretending to be normal, hadn’t even put his jacket on. “I’ll bring her when she’s done her business.”

“I’m fine,” Darcy insisted through chattering teeth.

“Why must you be so stubborn? You’re freezing. Go in!”

“Don’t boss me around!” She glared up at him, her face a pale oval in the starlight, and Pietro couldn’t help himself.

“Mmff,” Darcy said in shock as she found herself suddenly hoisted up into midair and being thoroughly kissed. Elspeth’s leash fell to the ground and Darcy clung instinctively to Pietro, seeking his delicious warmth.

Their tongues delved and stroked, Pietro’s arms tightening around Darcy. She wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning into his mouth as hardness pushed against her through their clothes. This was certainly not a kiss for an audience, she thought… just as she heard her father’s voice.

“Darcy, go and do that inside for goodness’ sake, you’ll freeze to death! This is why we gave you the guest room!”

“Oh _hell_ no!” Utterly embarrassed, she buried her face against Pietro’s neck. He chortled with laughter, looking up at the bedroom window where her father was leaning out, shaking his finger at them and laughing.

“I’ll take her inside and warm her up now, sir!”

“Oh you did _not_ just say that…” the world blurred and Darcy found herself set on her feet inside the kitchen. A rapid kiss was planted on her lips before Pietro was gone again in a streak of blue, returning a minute later with Elspeth. The old dog headed straight for her basket in the corner, uncaring of the humans and their ridiculous behaviour.

Darcy stood staring uncertainly at Pietro from across the kitchen - until he blurred into motion and was suddenly standing in front of her, grasping her hands in his.

“You’re shivering, _princeza_ ,” he said, voice low and husky, blue eyes staring down into hers.

“Um,” Darcy gulped, unable to find words, not with the way he was looking at her.

“I could warm you. I should like to warm you, very much.”

His meaning was unmistakable. She swallowed, licking her lips, staring up at him.

“Let me warm you, _princeza,”_ Pietro whispered, his mouth coming down on hers again, and just before their lips met, Darcy whispered;

“Yes.”

He lifted her without breaking the kiss, swept her to their room in less than the blink of an eye. Darcy found herself being laid gently on the bed, Pietro kneeling beside her, his hands blurring as he unzipped her jacket, eased it back off her shoulders. He said something she didn’t understand and she blinked up at him, bemused.

“Say what?”

Pietro muttered something, and then smiled down at her. “You steal the words from me, Darcy. So lovely. My lovely _princeza_ …”

“It’s unfairly sexy when you talk in Sokovian. It’s unfairly sexy when you talk, full stop, with that damn accent of yours.”

“You are the one who is unfairly sexy. But if you wish me not to talk, I shall find something else to do with my mouth.” He smiled wickedly at her before leaning down to nuzzle against her neck, licking and sucking on the delicate flesh of her throat, nipping lightly at her earlobe. His hands were busy too, working their way under layers of clothing to stroke at her sides and stomach.

“Umph, Piet,” Darcy moaned as she felt him suckling a love bite into her collarbone. Her hips arched up almost of their own accord, pushing against him where he lay between her thighs, seeking friction.

“So lovely,” he mumbled between nips and kisses, “so soft… Darcy, _princeza_ , why are you wearing seven layers of clothing?”

She couldn’t stop the laughter which welled up inside her and spilled out. Pietro leaned back and grinned down at her, his white curls adorably rumpled on his forehead, blue eyes glinting in the light of the small lamp beside the bed.

“You really are freezing, aren’t you?”

“I feel the cold,” she said through her giggles.

“So I see. I did promise to help warm you up, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to peel some of these layers off first.” Pietro was laughing along with her, amused, hands busy as he tugged up the baggy sweater which was her topmost layer.

Darcy stayed his hands, licking her lips before she asked “What are we doing, Piet?”

“Something which I have been wanting to do for a long time now.” He sobered, matching her mood, gazing at her intensely. “When I came to the Avengers, you were still dating Ian, and after you and he broke up, you made it clear you did not want to date anybody.”

Darcy grimaced, but nodded; it was quite true. The relationship had fizzled out eventually, but she’d then spent the next couple of months being a man-hating harpy. No wonder Pietro had been wary of making a move.

“I put you in the friendzone,” she realized.

“Which was your right; me wanting more does not mean that you have to give it to me. It did not stop me wanting, though. Nothing could ever stop me wanting.” His hand came up to touch her cheek gently. “I was willing to be only your friend, if that was what you wanted, but when you asked me to pretend to be your boyfriend, I thought that it might be a chance for me to get you to consider me as potentially more than a friend.”

“I never… I thought you were out of my league,” Darcy confessed wonderingly. “You could have any girl you wanted…”

“The girl I want is right here.” His fingers traced over her cheek again before he smiled. “Wearing far too many clothes.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The smutz :D

Darcy helped Pietro strip off her layers of clothes, flinging them away from her, careless of where they landed. At last she lay bared before him, covering herself a little shyly with her hands until he pushed them gently aside, leaning down to press kisses to every inch of her skin.

“Cold?” he murmured as she shivered, goose-bumps springing up in the wake of his mouth.

“N-no,” Darcy stammered as his hands teased and stroked, curving around her breasts, testing their heavy weight in his palms before he tugged lightly at her nipples, making her arch upwards with a gasp. “Piet!”

“Sensitive, _princeza_?” he glanced up at her with a smirk. “Tell me what you like.”

“Put - put your mouth on me,” Darcy begged, cupping her breasts, offering them up to him. “Please…”

He really didn’t need any urging, fell on her eagerly, suckling her nipple into his hot mouth and tonguing at it - _vibrating_ his tongue over the aching peak.

Darcy said a whole string of breathless swear words, making Pietro chuckle around his mouthful. He’d stripped off his own clothes while she was struggling out of hers, was just as naked as she was. He was straddling one of her legs, his hips rolling slowly, and she could feel the unmistakable evidence of his arousal pushing hard against her thigh. She suspected her own arousal was causing a very damp and sticky trail between her legs, one which Pietro was just about to encounter as his fingers moved in that direction. He hummed happily at the discovery, pushing two fingers slowly inside her. Far too slowly for Darcy’s liking.

Digging her fingers into his curly hair, she demanded “Hurry up, will you! For a speedster, you’re too damn slow!”

“You want fast, I give you fast,” Pietro said raggedly, twisting his fingers deep inside her, rotating his thumb over her clit quickly. “I give you fast as you like.”

His thumb accelerated to vibrating speeds, better than the best vibrator she’d ever had, and Darcy had to stuff a corner of the pillow into her mouth to suppress the wracking screams that her father would most definitely hear otherwise. Her whole body arched upwards, shaking and trembling with the violent orgasm that slammed through her.

Dimly, she heard Pietro’s dirty chuckle, heard him mutter something in Sokovian just before he moved down the bed to lie between her thighs and opened his mouth over her.

“Holy _fuck_ ,” she said around her mouthful of pillow as his tongue took over from his thumb, hot and wet, flicking over her already-sensitive flesh with increasing speed and intensity until she came again, bucking up under him, thighs locking tightly around his shoulders as she quivered with release.

He gave her a couple of minutes’ respite while he moved off the bed and grabbed a condom from his washbag. He could have done it so fast she’d never noticed he was gone, but he rather thought she might need a breather.

“You okay, _princeza_?” Pietro asked softly, settling back down between Darcy’s thighs, leaning down to kiss her breasts. He was very fond of Darcy’s breasts, had been admiring them for many months now. The opportunity to lavish his attention upon them was one he intended to make the most of.

Darcy made a huffing sound, pulling the pillow off her face and glaring at him in mock-outrage. “ _Okay_? No, I am _not_ okay! That was completely outrageous; how _dare_ you be smart, funny, handsome _and_ a human vibrator?”

He snickered, still kissing at her breasts. “God has blessed me.”

“Asshole,” but she was smiling fondly, reaching up to run her hands through his curls, tugging lightly so that he moved up to kiss her plush, swollen lips again.

“So beautiful, my Darcy, my _princeza_ ,” he framed her face gently in his big hands. “I make this good for you?”

“You’re doing a stellar job so far,” she smiled up at him, surprised to see a hint of insecurity in his expression. “Keep it up. Not that you seem to be having any trouble in that department _oh good Lord_.”

Darcy had been feeling Pietro’s erection nudging at her as he kissed her, but he shifted his hips as she spoke and started to push into her, a look of focussed concentration on his face. One hand curled back and under her knee, lifting it up to open the angle.

“ _Da li je dobro?_ ” he panted out, then, seeing her bemused expression, muttered a curse under his breath. “Good? Is good?”

She could only make strangled noises of agreement as he pushed deeper, the intrusion stretching sensitive tissues which hadn’t seen much action in a while. His arms were braced on either side of her head, those deliciously muscled arms she’d been fantasising about for quite a while now, if she was going to be honest with herself. Reaching up, Darcy grasped onto Pietro’s biceps, bracing herself against him even as she wrapped her legs around his lean hips, urging him deeper.

“That’s it,” she gasped, finding her voice again as he reached full depth and started to thrust. “That’s it oh yes Piet _oh fuck me yes!_ ”

The last four words were a near-scream; Pietro bent down to kiss her again, stifling her shrieks inside his own mouth, knowing that she might not care right now but she would probably be very embarrassed later if she thought her father had overheard. She felt amazing wrapped around him, hot and tight, slick as his hips rolled, his cock shuttling in and out of her wet passage. It felt too good; he suspected he wouldn’t last long, not with Darcy clawing at him, her heels pressing against his ass as she urged him on.

“Come on, beautiful,” he panted, not realizing that he spoke in his own language and that Darcy couldn’t understand him; she was too far gone anyway. “Come on, that’s it, let me feel you squeeze down on me. Let me feel you…” His eyes just about rolled back in his head then as she did just that, climaxing hard around him, her internal muscles sucking on him in an utterly inexorable pull.

Pietro was growling out what she suspected were swear words in Sokovian; harsh and guttural, they sounded incredibly sexy, reverberating against her lips as he swallowed her screams of ecstasy. He wasn’t even using his superspeed, not that he needed to; she was so sensitive now it would probably have hurt. At last he stilled against her with one more low groan; lifted his head to look down at her.

“You okay, _princeza_?”

“Still not okay,” she told him with a shake of her head. “Still outraged.”

He grinned down at her, but it was soft and loving, quite different from his trademark cocky smirk. “I can live with that.” Slowly and gently he eased back, glancing at her with concern when she gasped; but she shook her head and pushed at him with her legs, indicating that he should go on. At last he slipped out of her and went to the ensuite to clean up and dispose of the condom.

Returning to bed, Pietro found that Darcy had slipped in between the covers and was busily hauling all the blankets into a pile atop herself.

“You won’t need those,” sliding in behind her, he hooked an arm around her waist, pulled her back against his body. “You’ve got your very own personal hot-water bottle now.”

He was so hot, it was like snuggling up to a blast furnace. Darcy groaned with pleasure, relaxing back against him, twining her legs with his. “I hope you’re a cuddly sleeper,” she warned.

Nuzzling into her hair, Pietro sighed in utter contentment. “I will probably never let go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays to you all, whether it's Christmas, Chanukah, Winterfest, Hogswatch or any other holiday you choose to celebrate at this time of year, please stay safe and sound with those you love this season.
> 
> ozhawk  
> December 2016


End file.
